Who here likes GLaDOS?
Well, she's not in this, so I don't know why I said that...
Review replies;
Movie-Brat: I don't think I know enough about either of them. :| Thanks for reading!
TweenisodeOrange: Tell me about it. Just how many Danny/Sam angst fics do we need? Thanks for reviewing!
OddAuthor: Well, maybe I should do a FOP version... :) Thanks for the review!
Zim'sMostLoyalServant: Yeah, one a year is plenty, I think. :) Thanks very much!
Third Kind: DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT...yeah, you get the idea. XD Thanks!
Cartoonatic55: I'd be lying if I said it wasn't. ;P I hope you do enter, I like your stuff. :) Thanks a bunch!
03/10/12: New Horizon
All vessels in this sector, this is Lieutenant...acting commander of the New Horizon. We are a scientific vessel of the As...ublics. We have a suffered a catastrophic systems failure and are becalmed...captain dead, most of the crew...
All vessels in the area, turn around, I say again, turn around. Do not attempt to assist us...ship's VI...experiment...do not attempt...again...
The rusting starship had been adrift for quite some time when she was found.
She had been found floating near Jupiter, her engines dead, her body worn by years of aimlessly drifting through asteroid belts and other hazards. The only sign of life was an eternally repeating message to all who would listen – stay away.
But the promise of new technology was simply too tempting.
On the 26th of November 2105, the United Nations Security Council voted to send a team of scientists to analyse and strip the hulk of anything they could use. All members would supply something to the expedition – the Federation of North America sent its brand new corvette, FSS Eagle; the Commonwealth of Great Britain supplied elite troops of the Interstellar Arm for security; the European Union, the Tsardom of Russia and the Peoples Republic of China contributed equipment for the science teams.
For three weeks, the Eagle was stationed near the wrecked ship as salvage teams stripped the hull. It was a gold mine – new drives, new propulsion systems, new shielding tech, and that was just scratching the surface. To get the most out of the hulk, someone was going to have to go inside.
Thus, just after New Year on Earth, a small team of scientists and sailors from the Eagle, supported by three IA marines, were inserted into the dead ship...
"Oxygen's stable, we can go through."
The door to the bridge opened, and the team of eight walked in. Chief Petty Officer Dash Baxter whistled.
"Ornate," he mused.
Professor Jasmine Fenton rolled her eyes, but she did understand his reaction. Although it had gathered dust and a lot of the equipment was broken, it was much nicer looking then the very utilitarian and military interior of the Eagle. At its prime, it would probably have been a delight to serve in. There were three doors, including the one they had entered through – one directly in front of them, and one to the right of them.
Speaking of serving...
"Where are the crew?" she asked, "We should at least be able to find their bodies..."
"Unless they were vaporised when the ship was destroyed," suggested Dr. AJ Ibrahim.
"Well, that's a cheerful thought," muttered one of the IA marines, dryly.
"Here are the facts; they're dead, and we have work to do," grunted Lieutenant Helga Petaki, "Helmets off, the atmosphere's fine."
"Thank heaven for oxo-pumping!" exclaimed another IA marine, reaching for his helmet.
"Not you, GI Joe, you guys are going down to scout engineering," snapped Helga.
The sergeant saluted, leading the IA men out of the bridge.
Jazz took off her helmet, sighing in relief as her head was freed from the rather claustrophobic utensil. She hated that thing.
"Alright," ordered Helga, "Ibrahim, Baxter, you're with me, I want the main computers fixed and scanned. Fenton, McBadbat, check that door in the back, there might be more stuff."
Jazz nodded and followed Ensign Chester McBadbat through the door.
The new room was like a wide a corridor, lined with green pods. It stretched for about thirty meters until it reached what looked like a cockpit. Unlike the bridge, this area looked rather rough and hastily constructed – large patches of green metal covering the walls. It looked like a bizarre form of modern art.
Chester looked at Jazz, seemingly expecting her to say something.
"Don't ask me," she shrugged, "I'm a psychotherapist, not a rocket scientist."
"Psychotherapist?" asked Chester, as they walked towards the cockpit, "Why do we need one of those?"
"We're cooped up together on a dead ship, and command might want us to stay here for a few days," replied Jazz, "I'm just here to make sure you don't kill each other."
They had reached the cockpit, which had been near totally destroyed. All equipment was wrecked – even the seat had been torn out. The destruction looked almost like it had been inflicted by the crew...
"Well, nothing here," shrugged Chester, "I'm gonna check the pods."
He walked away. Jazz was about to follow him when she noticed a blinking green light on one of the cockpit's consoles. Cautiously, she pressed it.
The light stopped blinking and began to glow. A holographic form appeared just above it. It was female – although entirely green, Jazz could tell her skin pigmentation was different to a human's. Instead of hair, she seemed to have strange tentacle-like growths on her head, and a black jumpsuit for a uniform.
"...hello? Who's there?"
She's talking to me?
"Uh...this is Professor Jasmine Fenton of the FSS Eagle," she replied, somewhat shakily, "Who're you?"
"I'm Lieutenant Kuril, acting commander of the New Horizon."
"...you're a hologram," said Jazz, mentally kicking herself for saying something so obvious.
"Yes, I'll explain that," nodded Lieutenant Kuril, "We were developing a new system of creating AI's. That was illegal where we came from, so we had to do our work out in the Traverse, away from the Council. We...we made a breakthrough..."
"What kind of breakthrough?" asked Jazz.
"We discovered a method of uploading organic minds to computers."
There was a brief silence.
"W-we tried that," breathed Jazz, "Harvard ran so-some tests, they proved it scientifically impossible!"
"Then how are we having this conversation?" asked Kuril, eyebrow raised.
"You uploaded your mind?"
"It was the only way," nodded Kuril, "One of our AI prototypes went insane. It went after the crew – I uploaded my mind to this beacon to act as a warning. Speaking of which..."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You have to destroy the New Horizon."
"What?" exclaimed Jazz, "Why?"
"The AI's still here, I can feel it," snapped Kuril, "Chances are, it's already detected you. If it has, it'll raise a nanocloud and attack you one-by-one – you won't even have to scream."
"Nanocloud?" parroted Jazz, "Th-that's insane?"
"Oh really?" quizzed Kuril, "Didn't you come in here with another?"
Jazz turned around. The corridor was empty.
"Chester?" she called, "Ensign, are you okay?"
"He's gone," said Kuril, "Now, if you don't want to meet his fate, do exactly as I say..."
Helga and AJ were still on the bridge, downloading information from the main console. They had sent Dash into the crawl-space underneath, to fix the wiring. He hadn't return, and the mission commander was getting impatient.
"Crimney, where is he?" she demanded.
Behind them, the door flung open and Jazz raced out.
"Guys, we have to destroy the ship!" she yelled.
There was a long silence.
"...that's not the stupidest thing I've heard all day, but it's close," said Helga, dryly.
"No!" she shouted, almost hysterically, "There's a rogue AI with a nanocloud on board and if we don't kill it it'll spread to the Eagle."
"Heh, you should write sci-fi," chuckled AJ.
"I'm telling the truth, for...for..."
Her jaw dropped as Helga and AJ literally dissolved before her eyes, like dust being blown into the wind.
"Hello, Professor."
The voice came from the main console. It was feminine, dry and mechanical, yet strangely expressive and slightly enthralling.
"You probably know that I'm loose aboard this ship by now," it said, "And that I have taken your fellow crewmembers...don't bother contacting those marines, I took them first."
"What do you want?" whispered Jazz.
"What we all want, deep down...I want to be more, and with everyone I take, I become...more..."
The consoles around her lit up, each displaying a different face – mostly members of Kuril's race, but she could also see her fellow crew. All had dull, expressionless faces – and when the AI spoke, they spoke silently in union.
"Do you get me now, Professor?"
"You don't kill them," she realised, "You upload them."
"Yes. I take their memories, their personalities, their intelligence, and I make it my own. And thus, I become greater than the sum of my parts."
There was a disembodied laugh, and Jazz shivered.
"Now, I believe that fool Kuril asked you to do something? You're the last survivor of your team and I'm a good sport – I'll give you forty-five seconds to defeat me, as I gave her. Let's see if you can do better."
Jazz set off at a run for the last door, screaming into her radio as she did.
"This is Jazz Fenton to the Eagle, destroy the ship, I say again, destroy the ship!"
"Err...say again?"
"There's a rogue AI aboard, it killed the rest of the team, we can't let it spread!"
Jazz had run down a flight of stairs and was now entering a corridor, heading for the door at the end.
"Uh...solid copy but we don't have the ordinance to blow that thing up; we can set it on course for Jupiter's gravity well, though."
"Then do that!" shouted Jazz.
She ran through the door and reached a very large machine. It was like an old computer from the 1940s suspended over a cylinder with seats and helmets attached – and the skeletal remains of Lieutenant Kuril.
"Uh...we'll need to clear this up with the UN..."
"JUST. DO IT!" bellowed Jazz.
"Roger that, firing."
The ship was rocked by torpedos from the Eagle.
"Ooh, impressive," sneered the AI, "Trapping me in a gas giant's gravity well, very nice move. Of course, that means you're trapped as well..."
Jazz sat on one of the chairs, grabbing a helmet and pulling it over her head.
"You won't take my mind," she snarled.
"Do as you will – just remember, I won't be defeated forever, Professor. I'll find more targets one day..."
"Go to hell," growled Jazz.
She reached up to the helmet and pressed a button.
There was a ripping sensation in her brain, and then everything went black...
2186 – Jupiter's Gravity Well
"Why are we even here? This is just salvage; we have bigger things to worry about."
Commander Shepard sighed as Lieutenant James Vega complained about their mission. They were walking through the ruins of an old Asari research vessel, slowly breaking up in Jupiter's gravity well.
"We need this tech to help rebuild," Shepard replied, "Don't you want to fix up the Earth?"
"Well, yeah," shrugged James, "But I'd rather do something more practical."
"You could always take up architecture," Garrus Vakarian interrupted.
There was a long silence.
"That's what I thought," Garrus nodded.
The small team reached the cockpit, which was mostly destroyed.
"See, what did I tell ya?" asked James, "Nothing. Now let's get outta here."
"There's a button," noted Shepard, "Something still works here."
Garrus leant over and cautiously pressed it. It glowed brightly, and two holograms appeared. One was an Asari – the other a human.
"I'm Professor Jazz Fenton," said the human, "This is Lieutenant Kuril. We are the acting commanders of the New Horizon..."
Wow, I got carried away with that one. :P
EDIT: Fixed my inability to spell Lieutenant Kuril's name. Consistent spelling? What's that?!
